


Chained

by Love_U, NoHappyEnding



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, NHE2017, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-22 22:42:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13774134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Love_U/pseuds/Love_U, https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoHappyEnding/pseuds/NoHappyEnding
Summary: Chanyeol only wanted to go to his grandmother’s birthday party. He never expected that he would get stuck in a strange town filled with strange people in the middle of nowhere. He also never anticipated the town’s hotelier, Baekhyun.





	Chained

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:** 2017-100  
>  **Pairing/Main character(s):** Chanyeol/Baekhyun  
>  **Word count:** 12,257  
>  **Rating:** Teens and up  
>  **Warning(s):** Mentions of emotional and physical abuse

**Chained**

Chanyeol checked his wristwatch for the umpteenth time and grumbled in distaste as he stepped on the gas pedal. Abusing the old car so much wasn’t a smart move, but he really didn’t want to test his family’s patience. It had been too long since Chanyeol’s last visit – three years, to be exact – and his grandmother would never forgive him for being late, especially since tomorrow was her birthday. She’d hold a grudge against him that would hold until she was on her deathbed.

The brunette absentmindedly played with his hair as he sped down the dark desert road, his headlights turned to full beam. He wasn’t normally this careless, but it was in the middle of the night and there was no other car in sight. Plus, there was his grandmother to think about- his terrifying demon of a grandmother.

He looked at the time again and realized too late that he was slowing down. Chanyeol frowned at the full tank sign that greeted him, yet no matter how hard he tried to press the pedal harder, the car just refused to cooperate. It wasn’t long before the vehicle stood to a complete stop, the engine and all its light blinking out and leaving Chanyeol with nothing but the darkness for company. Dread crept into his stomach and he swallowed down the fear lodging in his throat, the hairs on his nape standing to attention; he never really learned to put up with the darkness. Years of being locked in closets because of disobedience could do that to a person.

At 24, he still used night lights to keep the monsters in the dark.

Thoroughly confused and partly freaking out, Chanyeol searched the other seat blindly for his phone, half expecting something to grab his hand and drag him down to hell. Of course, nothing of the sort happened and Chanyeol found his phone with a victorious and pleased whoop and turned its torch on, bathing the car in the light. Sighing in relief, he could almost hear his grandmother’s voice beside him saying “stop being such a wuss, boy”, which was what she told him every time she made him climb trees when he was still a kid. He immediately dialed for help, only to be met with the tone.

There was no signal.

His grandmother was a barbarian, and Chanyeol should start writing his own eulogy since he was surely going to be late to tomorrow’s birthday party. He smacked his head down the steering wheel, creating a long honking noise. Good, maybe – though unlikely – someone would hear it and help him. Besides, he liked the sound. Without it, there would be silence, and the only thing left to occupy the space would be his harsh loud breaths.

Chanyeol breathed deeply and assessed his options, although if he was being honest there were no options. He could very well wait forever for help to arrive. The road Chanyeol took wasn’t driven through frequently, and the only reason he used it was so he could avoid the traffic. Help was as unlikely as his grandmother’s forgiveness for his tardiness. Still, the alternative was too scary to think about. Chanyeol had never used this road before, and he was supremely unfamiliar with the surroundings. It could be miles until the next town, and even then a lot of things could happen along the way.

He could be _robbed_ the moment he stepped off the car and the criminals would probably leave his corpse lying in the middle of the road and he’d decay there until the vultures come for him and _then_ they’d-

 

The brunette pinched the bridge of his nose, calming and steeling himself for the inevitable. After slowly releasing a breath, Chanyeol grabbed his backpack from the side seat and got off the car. He checked the tires, all of which appeared to be in working condition, and pulled up the hood of the car. It was hard to see anything with only the light coming from his phone, but his engine was probably busted because of how hard he pushed it earlier.

Chanyeol closed the hood and turned around to look at the long road before him. He’d walk to the nearest town, get some rest, and have his car towed first thing in the morning. Chanyeol ripped a page from his notebook and scribbled his number after a short message. After making sure that the paper was securely held down by the windshield, he licked his dry lips and walked forward. If he was lucky, his car would still be there come morning. If he was _super_ lucky, he’d reach the nearest town before his phone battery ran out. Heart hammering in his chest, Chanyeol walked on.

He focused on the road in front of him, careful not to pay too much attention to his peripheral vision. The wind was cool, but the breeze blowing past him and playing with his hair only added to the tension. Honestly, Chanyeol was half sure he would run and never look back if there was even a slight hint of sound behind him.

Chanyeol squinted, but no sign of life was present in the distance, and so he walked on. He walked on although his feet formed blisters, though his body grew weaker with each step. He continued on and eventually, the cold breeze became comforting and the darkness became a long lost friend. A long distance from where he began, his phone warned him of the slowly dying battery, and Chanyeol ignored it and chose to sing instead. The wind carried his voice, enveloping and blanketing the space around him and for one fleeting moment, Chanyeol was free.

His phone battery died just as he stepped foot on the town, something Chanyeol would not have figured out had it not been for the sign and the single flickering lamp post at what he assumed was the entrance of the village. The flickering light had stopped Chanyeol in his tracks, cold fear gripping his heart before he shrugged it off; repeating the words his grandmother was so fond of telling him. There was no sign of life present, but the lampposts lining the houses and stores of the town had been lit as if to welcome him. Still, they were a pretty unknown town, so far away from the city life, so maybe it this was a perfectly normal behavior. Chanyeol wouldn’t know; he had lived at the heart of New York for most of his life, and seeing so little activity was oddly disarming.

He looked at his wristwatch and frowned in confusion when he was greeted with the same numbers since he last checked it. He didn’t remember bumping into anything, but maybe his watch caught on to something when he was looking for his phone. The brunette shrugged it off and continued on, hoping to meet at least one person to direct him to the nearest hotel. His feet were killing him, and all he wanted was to sleep and forget about his inevitable demise by his dear grandmother’s hand; an end Chanyeol had forgotten about until he arrived at the town.

As he walked the streets, Chanyeol hummed under his breath again, filling the emptiness with his voice. He half hoped it would stir people awake, but no one woke up to shout at him to shut up. Chanyeol was only slightly disappointed. Truth be told, it was a little scary walking out alone at this time in the night. Still, the lack of people gave him time to appreciate the aesthetic quality of the row of houses. Though it was a small town, he could tell that the inhabitants of the town really put a lot of effort into making it more presentable, perhaps to gather the attention of tourists like him. Still, for all its beauty, Chanyeol had never heard of this place.

The streets became a steep uphill as he went and while climbing, Chanyeol heard a soft melodious voice blending with his own. He blinked in surprise and almost lost his footing as his voice lodged in his throat. The sight that greeted him when he finally reached the top was so much prettier than the whole town combined.

A petite man was leaning on the wall beside a closed door, arms on the coat he was wearing and legs crossed in front of him. His head was turned towards the sky while he sang, eyes closed. Chanyeol’s mouth turned dry, his eyes as wide as saucers. The man turned to him and smiled prettily when he saw Chanyeol, his eyes disappearing between crescents. Chanyeol’s legs felt like lead, and he wasn’t even aware he was moving as he walked toward the stranger. As he got nearer, it became clear that the other’s hair was as dark as the night sky, and his eyes were twinkling almonds. Other people could probably write sonnets about this guy and all Chanyeol could think was ‘ _wow._ ’

“Welcome,” the stranger said, voice gentle and soothing. “I’ve prepared a room for you.” He pushed himself away from the wall and beckoned Chanyeol as he opened the front door of the hotel.

His choice of words struck something inside that made cleared the fog from his mind and made Chanyeol pause on the threshold of the door, eyeing the man strangely. “…you knew I was coming?”

The other male stopped in his tracks and turned around to look at him, head tilted to the side quizzically and a frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Of course…?” he replied, tone going high by the end and turning the statement into a question.

The brunette shook his head. It was a small town. Perhaps someone had warned this apparent host of his arrival or maybe he had seen Chanyeol pathetically attempting to climb up the hill. Heat engulfed his face, and Chanyeol desperately hoped it was the former.

“Uh, never mind,” he told the other with a strained smile, willing the earth to swallow him whole. He wasn’t normally _this_ bad at conversing. Though there had been times when his brain-to-mouth filter malfunctioned, he was still considered charming and funny at the end of the day. At this point, Chanyeol was pretty sure he looked nothing else but an idiot. In fact, they both looked stupid, standing by the door and staring at each other. Chanyeol cleared his throat. “Sorry, I’m just tired. I-” he trailed off, unsure how to phrase just how bad his night had been and settled for; “It’s been a long day.”

The pretty male nodded and led Chanyeol to the front desk while he went around and emerged from the other side. He didn’t speak anymore as he crouched down out of Chanyeol’s line of sight to look for something. Chanyeol didn’t mind since it gave him time to look around.

Despite the hotel’s small size, the interior decoration of the place wasn’t so bad. At the side of the counter were the wooden stairs, and on the right side of the room was an archway leading to the courtyard. The place wasn’t half as bad as the other hotels Chanyeol had been at; he just didn’t expect everything to look so… old-fashioned and woody, but he supposed that he shouldn’t have assumed anything else. He could hardly anticipate high-tech gadgets or sleek modern furniture from a town like this one. Still, the place was beautiful in an oddly traditional way. It actually reminded him of his grandmother’s house.

Something clicked in Chanyeol’s mind, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember what it was.

“Here we go,” the man exclaimed as he placed a notepad on the counter. Chanyeol was pretty tired of calling him ‘pretty guy’ in his head, but he could hardly ask the other man for his name without making everything awkward. “Just sign your name on today’s date and you’re all set.”

Chanyeol hummed in reply as he wrote down. “And the payment?”

No answer came, causing Chanyeol to look up, brows furrowed in confusion. The other male was looking back with the same expression he grazed Chanyeol with earlier: head tilted slightly to the side and lips parted in bewilderment. He was looking at Chanyeol like how one would look at a particularly interesting specimen. “…payment for what?” he asked tentatively.

“Uh… for the room?” the brunette clarified, raising a brow. _Why_ was it so difficult talking to this stranger? He was pretty sure half the conversation had been filled with questions and the both of them trying to understand each other. They weren’t just on different pages; they were reading completely different books! And to top it all, once it looked like they reached an agreement, the other guy burst out laughing.

Chanyeol would have been offended if he wasn’t so distracted by the rectangle shape the other’s lips made.

“Oh, _that,_ ” he said, trying to get the words past his chortles. Chanyeol waited patiently as he admired the bright visage of the hotelier, still feeling like they were talking about two different things. Once he calmed down, he gave Chanyeol a smile. “You don’t need to worry about that.”

’ _Why?_ ’ Chanyeol wanted to ask, but the words wouldn’t leave his lips. Instead, he nodded tiredly and shot the other male a grateful smile as he was handed the key to his room. After all, one should never look at a gift horse in the mouth. Besides, if he was still feeling up to it, he could ask the man tomorrow.

Lips still quirked into a smile, he picked up the notepad Chanyeol wrote in. “Chanyeol, huh,” he read out loud before his eyes widened, a blush dusting his pale cheeks. Chanyeol stared. “I’m sorry, I forgot to introduce myself.” He held out a hand and Chanyeol couldn’t even think as he took it. “Baekhyun at your service.”

“Are you the owner?”

Baekhyun – and it felt _wonderful_ to put a name to the face – considered his question. “I suppose I am. There’s no title or anything, but I’ve been managing the place for a few years now,” he said, an odd smile crossing his lips. “I’m the only staff here since not much people come through. They usually go to the more extravagant hotels situated in the cities. The only people I take care of are the ones in the town.”

Chanyeol shifted uneasily, discomfited by the glint in Baekhyun’s eyes. There it was again… the odd feeling that he was missing something.

‘ _Tired._ ’ Chanyeol closed his eyes. ‘ _He was just tired._ ’

Baekhyun noticed the movement, and once Chanyeol opened his eyes, he gently nudged him. “Go rest. Way up is right beside the counter. We serve breakfast at eight, lunch at 12, and dinner at six. Don’t worry about the time; the bells will ring to inform you. I know you’re confused, but we can talk tomorrow. Good night, Chanyeol.”

“Night,” Chanyeol mumbled, swallowing a yawn as he carefully trudged up the stairs. All at once, his whole trip came back to him, and the pain in his legs doubled. He remembered his car, stranded in the middle of nowhere, and realized that he had forgotten to ask Baekhyun about it.

 _Tomorrow,_ Chanyeol promised himself.

 

The second floor was just as wooden and unpresumptuous as the first, and Chanyeol really did like it, if only because he wouldn’t be forced to dress up to fit in. His room was two doors away from the stairs, and he was about to head in when the door next to his opened. A tall, tan guy stepped out, and Chanyeol couldn’t quite tell if he was half-asleep or high. The guy would be handsome, Chanyeol supposed, if he didn’t look like he might fall over any second.

Droopy-eyed guy stared through him. “I’ve never seen you here before,” he said, sleepily rubbing his eyes on the sleeves of his jacket. Chanyeol wasn’t even given time to reply as the guy continued blithely, “Are you lost too?”

Chanyeol blinked and smothered down the rush of defensive anger rising in him. He looked at himself then looked at the guy again. As far as Chanyeol could tell, he didn’t appear as dirty as he could have. “Yeah... I am,” he said, and then, “How did you know?”

“You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t.”

He was staring at Chanyeol, but at the same time, wasn’t. His gaze was too unfocused and dazed and it gave off the impression that he wanted to look but couldn’t. Really, all Chanyeol wanted was sleep, and he was so tired of the riddle bull crap. Still, a pang of sadness went through him. He thought of Baekhyun and his nice smile and the loneliness that it seemed to carry. A new face must be rare. Maybe that was why Baekhyun decided to let him crash for free; the poor guy must be desperate for company.“Uh, yeah… see you around, I guess,” Chanyeol muttered as he pushed open the door.

He flinched back just as he was about to close his door. The other man’s gaze had sharpened when Chanyeol turned his back, and he directed all the intensity at Chanyeol. “You better hope not,” he muttered softly before walking away.

Chanyeol stared at his retreating back, utterly dumbfounded. Was he just _threatened_ by a complete stranger? The brunette scowled as he slammed the door shut. Assholes really were present in every corner of the world, even small towns such as this one. He knew, logically, that there was no way the man could touch him, but he didn’t really feel safe with the guy’s threat hanging over his head like that, so despite his tired limbs, Chanyeol pushed one of the armchairs in the room to barricade the door after double checking that it was already locked.

He dropped his bag on the ground and collapsed on the bed. A candle placed in a glass was halfway burned already, and Chanyeol didn’t expect for it to last the night. His head was thrumming as he rummaged through his bag and retrieved his nightlight. Chanyeol looked around the room for an outlet and _almost_ screamed in frustration when it dawned on him that no electric lines were connected to this hotel. Even the lights downstairs were from candles hidden creatively in glasses.

Man, they were taking old-fashioned to another level.

Chanyeol eyed the burning candle placed on the nightstand. Sure it wouldn’t last the whole night, but would it really matter once he was asleep? Grumbling under his breath, Chanyeol delved under the covers and pulled them up to his chin, completely covering his body. At least the wind was cool because Chanyeol detested the idea of showing even one body part out of the covers. It seemed all the courage he had gathered during his long walk had evaporated, and he was left feeling uneasy once more. It was irrational, but Chanyeol had never been able to sleep easily at another place, especially one so far away from home.

Contrary to his doubts, Chanyeol fell asleep within minutes, the strain taking a toll on his body and was awakened by the sound of people _screaming_.

He bolted upright on the bed and flattened himself against the wall, terror singing in his veins. There was a man in the room with him, someone Chanyeol had never even met but somehow knew.

Junmyeon…

He was red-faced in his anger, spit flying out of his mouth as he spat curses at someone Chanyeol couldn’t see. Chanyeol gulped inaudibly and shaking hands retrieved the nearest object he could grab hold of: a knife placed on top of his bedside drawer. He pointed it at the man, ready to threaten him and call for help when he- when Junmyeon beckoned someone forward. Chanyeol whipped around in surprise, totally unaware that there was another person in the room. The same man he met earlier came forward – Jongin, his mind supplied – and Chanyeol could see that he was uneasy and scared, but his strides were resolute as he approached. Junmyeon bared his teeth and slapped Jongin across the face. He blanched, but otherwise didn’t react, and from Chanyeol’s vantage point, he could see him licking the blood off his lips. And then Junmyeon was pushing Jongin to the floor, punching him as he ignored Jongin’s cries again and again and again and again and- and then Chanyeol was running, knife raised, and-

He gasped, eyes snapping open as the last vestiges of his dream faded away. Chanyeol breathed deeply, adrenaline still coursing through his body. He was shaking, he realized, as he rubbed his arms around himself to drive away the cold. Chanyeol whirled to face the nightstand. The fire had gone out, and no knife was present. Even with nothing to provide light, the room was glowing because of the moonlight. Chanyeol licked his dry lips, heart slowly growing calm in his chest.

Chanyeol settled down under the covers again as the last of the dream faded from his mind. And while he drifted off to a restless sleep, he was overcome with an odd feeling of weightlessness.

He woke up to the sound of laughter of music, both of which were drifting from below up to his window. The brunette groaned, plopping on the bed while holding a pillow over his head in an attempt to block out the noise. Judging from the brightness outside, or lack thereof, it was barely past seven in the morning. Chanyeol resisted the sudden urge to curse out loud when the music only grew louder as if taunting him.

He threw off the covers and headed to the bathroom. It was small, but that was hardly surprising. The sink was on the right side of the door, above it was an old-fashioned mirror, and the toilet was parallel to it. The shower area was closed off with a lilac curtain, but from where he was standing, it didn’t really seem that spacious. A small circular window above the toilet allowed light entry.

Chanyeol walked over to the sink, intent on appearing if not handsome, then at least somewhat decent.

He stared.

Sunken eyes, a red nose, and a complexion as pale and deathly as a ghost stared back. Furthermore, a large and purple bruise that Chanyeol didn’t even remember getting was blooming on his forehead. He poked the wound tenderly with a slight wince as he frowned at his reflection. Chanyeol wouldn’t have been surprised if someone had screamed _zombie_ at the sight of him. Hell, he wanted to scream zombie when he saw himself. He hurriedly washed his face and, after making sure he looked human, left the bathroom. After making up the bed and changing into a simple black shirt and faded jeans, he turned to the doorway.

The armchair blocking the door made Chanyeol stop in his tracks and reminded him of the sleepy-eyed male he encountered last night. He dreamt about him, didn’t he? Tried as he might, though, he couldn’t recall what the dream was about, and Chanyeol could only frown in agitation as he returned the armchair to its original position.

After making sure that the door was locked – Chanyeol wasn’t about to take any chances when _that_ guy was situated right beside his room – he headed to the place where the sound was originating from. The music was almost familiar, and Chanyeol belatedly recalled that it sounded just like the voice that greeted him uphill last night. He stood by the archway to the courtyard, unwarranted nervousness stopping him in place.

The courtyard was relatively large, considering the size of the hotel. The space was completely empty of decoration except for an old wishing well standing in the middle and a few tables lining the sides. However, what it lacked in decoration, it made up for in the number of people. People of varying age and gender danced around the wishing well, their faces painted with joy and happiness. Chanyeol watched them with furrowed eyebrows, wondering where the hell they even came from since the hotel seemed empty when he arrived. His eyes trailed over the man sitting on the well, uncaring of his precarious position, while he sang to his heart’s content. Baekhyun’s voice floated around him and Chanyeol observed the petite man. He was wearing a white long-sleeved shirt that looked like it came straight out of the Renaissance era. It was cut in an upside triangular fashion, showing off Baekhyun’s collarbones. To Chanyeol’s utter surprise and amusement, ruffles _actually_ decorated the wrist area of the clothing as well as the lining of the cut. He looked like he came out of a fairytale book and his singing, in the same way Disney characters suddenly did, didn't really help Chanyeol’s opinion about the whole thing.

There was something about Baekhyun, though, that was completely absent in fairytale stories. He might have looked gentle, but Chanyeol saw the sadness lurking beneath his eyes and it was that quiet despair that pushed him forward despite how unsure he was of his own welcome. Baekhyun smiled at him and his desperate attempts in trying to avoid knocking anyone over, eyes turning into crescents as he continued to sing.

Since the place and its people screamed old-fashioned, Chanyeol figured it couldn’t hurt to play along.

Baekhyun raised a single eyebrow at the hand Chanyeol offered once he got through the throng of people- a feat more difficult than he expected. “May I have this dance?” he asked the smaller man and bowed theatrically, pushing his hand further into Baekhyun’s personal space. He must look ridiculous, but it would be worth it if it could erase the anguish hiding in the latter’s almond eyes.

A beat passed, and still, Baekhyun did not take it. Chanyeol might have been willing to make a fool out of himself to make the other one feel better, but this was absurd and embarrassing. If Baekhyun didn’t want to dance he could just say so and spare Chanyeol from further humiliation. The tips of his ears turned red and Chanyeol was about to drop his hand when Baekhyun caught it in a firm but gentle grasp. The brunette looked up in surprise and almost pulled his hand back in his shock. Baekhyun smiled at him, looking so _soft_ and _happy_ that Chanyeol- Chanyeol could only stare. Apparently, it was his default mode every time his brain short-circuited. He wasn’t built to handle a soft Baekhyun head on.

Chanyeol licked his lips and averted his gaze, heart hammering in his chest as he pulled the raven-haired man on his feet. The thing was… Chanyeol knew what he preferred even when he was just a kid, but his attraction to the hotelier was beyond ridiculous. They had just recently met and their first conversation was almost completely filled with questions. Chanyeol might not have a specific type, but he wanted to at least be able to _clearly_ communicate with his partner.

Then, Baekhyun laughed and all of Chanyeol’s worries melted away leaving nothing but warmth in its wake. To be surrounded by the crowd with a merry boy in front of him made Chanyeol forget that he had a life outside of this small little hotel. Baekhyun had a certain charm that attracted people like moths to a flame, and Chanyeol could only laugh as he was helplessly pulled into the other male’s orbit. Despite being the one who instigated the whole thing, Chanyeol found himself following and copying Baekhyun’s movements.

Baekhyun began to sing again- a happy and upbeat song that had the people dancing in a lively manner. They formed a circle around them, dancing in pairs to an intricate choreography that everyone but Chanyeol seemed to know. Still, Chanyeol tried his best to keep up, and though he might have looked like a flailing monkey because of his long limbs, Baekhyun just grinned along and patiently guided him all throughout the song.

Chanyeol could safely say it was the most fun he had in a while.

He led Baekhyun away and into a secluded table by the corner, panting heavily all the while. The other man smiled at him in amusement as he gestured to the wine bar. Chanyeol shook his head and after regaining his breath, he told Baekhyun honestly, “You’re a good dancer.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.” The raven-haired man chuckled, lips pulling up into a small smile.

Chanyeol snorted, which probably made him look really unattractive but what the heck. Baekhyun probably didn’t care; seeing as how he was still tolerating Chanyeol’s company despite how many times the latter had stepped on him while they were dancing. If that didn’t scare the other man away then Chanyeol figured Baekhyun was a pretty chill guy. “Please,” he replied, rolling his eyes, “spare me the lies. We both know long limbs weren’t made for dancing.”

“That’s not true!” Baekhyun argued after a series of blinks, eyes narrowed in slight annoyance. It was a cute look on him, Chanyeol decided. “Tall people could make dancing look really good. It’s just a matter of practice.”

The brunette felt a frown pulling at his lips and tried to wipe it off before the other could notice. He wasn’t very successful, judging by the confused look Baekhyun sent him. Chanyeol swallowed deeply and ignored the twinge in his chest as he smiled, refusing to open up. This was a topic far too personal for people who had only recently met to talk about, and Chanyeol had no plans of staying just to deepen their relationship.

The subject of dancing brought to mind his grandmother’s birthday party and, subsequently, his stranded car. It would be an abrupt change of topic, but Baekhyun wouldn’t protest; Chanyeol knew that much. “Sure, they can,” he dismissed as he casually waved a hand, ignoring the bemused look Baekhyun sported. “Hey, do you know any mechanics in town?”

Baekhyun pursed his lips in distaste but, just like Chanyeol predicted, offered no protest. “What could you possibly need a mechanic for?”

“My, uh, car actually broke down last night, so I walked here. I need to get it fixed as soon as possible,” Chanyeol said as he rubbed his nape in embarrassment. “There’s this thing I need to go to.”

The hotelier blinked at him, looking – for some reason Chanyeol could not understand – worried. Baekhyun bit his lower lip in nervousness and Chanyeol watched in confusion as his hand twitch in agitation from where it was placed on the table. “But Chanyeol… _look at you._ ”

Out of surprise, the brunette did as he was told. There was an offended scowl set on his lips when he looked at the smaller man again. His head throbbed painfully, but Chanyeol ignored it in favor of glaring at Baekhyun. Sure, he didn’t look as classy or as rich as the other, but there were other people in the hotel that looked far worse than he did, _and_ even if Chanyeol was wearing _rags,_ Baekhyun should have had enough decency not to comment. Furthermore, even though he looked pitiful – with the dark bags under his eyes and the gigantic purple bruise on his forehead – it didn’t mean he actually _needed_ Baekhyun’s pity. He had a job and a good income if he said so himself. Chanyeol had money, damn it, enough to be able to pay for things such as a mechanic and hotel room.

Baekhyun’s almond eyes were wide and he took a step back in alarm when Chanyeol only glared harder. “Baekhyun,” he said through gritted teeth, “as much as I appreciate you looking out for me… _I am not a charity case._ ”

He stalked away before Baekhyun could offer half-assed apologies.

Chanyeol took a sit at the counter of the bar, feeling lightheaded all of a sudden. There was a sharp, stabbing pain in the back of his eyes like someone had gone inside his head and was playing with needles. He closed his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose, carefully not looking at the direction he just came from.

“You all right?” There was a sound of something hitting the space in front of him, and Chanyeol blearily opened his eyes. The bartender peered at him in concern, one hand still on the glass of water he placed before Chanyeol.

“Yeah, just tired from all that dancing,” he replied, nodding his thanks. The man released the glass as Chanyeol reached for it, and he gulped down the water greedily. The bartender nodded back, brushing his blonde hair out of his eyes as he leaned on the wall and studied Chanyeol. It felt… weird. “Uh- My name’s Chanyeol.”

“Sehun,” he introduced back. “I tend the bar.”

Chanyeol eyed the vest and slacks, wondering if every staff in the hotel tried to look like their respective stereotypes. “You’ve been a bartender for long?”

“You could say that.” An amused smile was playing on the blonde’s lips, leaving Chanyeol feeling like he had just said something stupid. The feeling brought Baekhyun to the forefront of his mind. He scowled; it seemed like all the staff members were playing with him as if they had discussed it beforehand and planned to fool Chanyeol on purpose. Didn’t they care about the review he would leave behind or the fact that he might talk trash about the hotel that was in the middle of nowhere and its annoying personnel?

Shaking his head in mild irritation, Chanyeol took another sip of water to cool him down before turning to the bartender. “Okay… do you know any mechanics in town? I need my car fixed.”

Sehun looked at him oddly, and his answer didn’t improve Chanyeol’s rapidly dampening mood. “…there are no mechanics here. Everyone is just what they should be.”

“That-” Chanyeol faltered, inwardly screaming about how insane everyone was. “That’s a no… right?”

“Yes…?” The odd look didn’t leave Sehun’s face even as he obviously grappled for another, less awkward, topic. He gestured toward Chanyeol’s pulsating forehead. “Mighty bruise there. I can see why you got dizzy.”

Chanyeol flinched; the reminder only making his head hurt, and answered Sehun.

That night, Chanyeol watched the fire flicker on a newly placed candle. It illuminated the room, and it must have been Baekhyun’s way of apologizing because the candle was thick and long. It was there when Chanyeol came back from dinner and would surely last all night, something he was grateful for. Still, Chanyeol still couldn’t quite bring himself to forget what the shorter male had said. Was everything that Baekhyun did, done out of pity? Because he thought Chanyeol was… what? Lost? Homeless?

It left a bitter taste in his mouth. He had been holed up in his room the whole day in his attempt to avoid Baekhyun, only coming out to eat, and even then he ignored the sorrowful looks Baekhyun kept shooting him. He knew it was petty, but no one had ever praised Chanyeol for his maturity, so that was okay.

Instead, he sat on one of the armchairs, book in hand, and tried his hardest to ignore the merrymaking outside. It was difficult, and Chanyeol had gotten stuck on one word numerous times. He was filled with vindictive glee when the noise slowly died down as the people left one by one. It was hard to see others so happy when all he could think about was his grandmother and what she must have looked like when he failed to show.

Unbidden, the image of Baekhyun sitting on the well surrounded by people and yet still so alone entered his mind’s eyes, and then he just felt horrible.

Chanyeol wouldn’t lie, though. He was happy to see the people gone. Chanyeol pushed an armchair to block the door again before settling on the bed, willing the migraine that had built up to go away. Baekhyun’s guests and their riddles only made it worse.

After leaving Sehun, he had tried to ask other people in town. Keyword being: _tried_. He told them that his car was stranded, that he needed a mechanic, and even threw him missing his grandmother’s party for effect, but it all didn’t work. It seemed that everyone there had a knack for being uncooperative. The answers he received made no sense, and he could clearly remember Baekhyun’s worried frown from behind the counter when Chanyeol left the hotel without a word.

The first one he had approached was a man sitting outside a house, half his face and legs covered in what could only possibly be burnt marks. They continued past his neck, maybe throughout the body. It looked horrible, and Chanyeol had no idea how he survived such wounds, but he looked approachable enough. After Chanyeol was finished speaking, the man placed a burnt hand on his shoulder and consoled wistfully, “She’ll understand… they always do.”

Chanyeol tensely nodded, but all he really wanted to do was scream. Apparently, their conversation was loud enough, and an old lady who was sitting nearby turned to him, pity in her eyes. “Don’t do this to yourself,” she said, frowning at him in worry as the other man nodded along. Chanyeol resisted the strong urge to throttle them both.

That wasn’t even the weirdest thing about the day. As he was coming back to his room from lunch, the door next to his opened, and Chanyeol jumped back a mile, a feeling of déjà vu washing over him. He felt a little silly a moment later when two young men, who were clearly not Jongin, stepped out. They stared at him in shock as he tried to gather composure. The taller one – still shorter than him, though – with blond hair was raising his eyebrows and the shorter male with jet black hair looked like he was trying not to laugh.

Chanyeol had thought, ‘ _what the hell._ ’

“I’m Chanyeol.”

Taller blond spoke first. “Jongdae,” he said and pointed at his companion. “This is my brother, Minseok.”

He looked like he was going to ask about Chanyeol’s rather violent reaction upon seeing their door opening, but Chanyeol talked over him. “Do you guys happen to know any mechanics in town? My car broke down and I need to leave soon.”

Chanyeol clenched his fist on the pillow, remembering Jongdae’s obnoxious laughter and Minseok’s confused, “But you can’t leave?” He waited for the punch line, for one of them to laugh, but it never came. Instead, when Chanyeol kept quiet, they just stared at him with the same kind of intensity that was in Jongin’s eyes the night before, as if they were waiting for something. It was like everyone was reading a script and Chanyeol was the only one who didn’t know the lines.

The brunette turned on the bed to face the door where his armchair settled comfortably against. One Kim brother threatened him, another laughed, and the last one just added to the confusion. This was-

Chanyeol blinked, his thoughts registering a moment too slow, but when it did, it was hard to keep the panic at bay because _how?_ How had he known that fact? He could recall with perfect clarity that none of them had told him their last name, and yet here Chanyeol lay, aware of it.

He wanted to leave as soon as possible. There was something weird going on in the hotel, and there was no way Chanyeol was staying to find out what. Minseok’s word kept echoing in his head, and the worst part of it wasn’t even what he said, but _how_ he said it. As if it was a statement, not a question, and Chanyeol was just a little slow on the uptake.

Still, with no contact with the outside world, how exactly was he going to leave? Apparently, there was no mechanic here, and if Chanyeol remembered correctly it was a pretty long walk from the main road. Chanyeol bit his lip in thought. He _could_ ask Baekhyun if there was a landline in the hotel. Even though he didn’t really want to talk to the other man, he would have to make do, since there was no other option.

Chanyeol desperately wanted to leave. It wasn’t just the hotel; it was also his grandmother and the rest of his family. They had probably transitioned from pissed off to slightly worried. Chanyeol closed his eyes. He was going to leave tomorrow, he would be sure of it.

In the distance, Baekhyun was singing and his soft voice was the last thing Chanyeol heard before he was lulled to sleep. He dreamt of searing pain and fire and the Kim brothers staring at him from the ashes with blood in their mouths.

When Chanyeol woke up, it felt like something had crawled into his mouth and died. He groaned, his whole body aching, and got out of bed. Chanyeol rummaged around his backpack for clothes – nice ones that wouldn’t make him look like he had nothing on him – and went inside the bathroom to wash up. He finished up, gingerly poked at the bruise again, and cleaned up the room. Hey, if he was leaving that day, the least he could do was make sure Baekhyun wouldn’t have too much trouble with his room. Chanyeol was still angry with him, but he had good intentions when he allowed Chanyeol to stay for free.

Of course, Chanyeol was still going to leave a couple dollars on the counter out of spite.

He marched downstairs, head held up high, and looked at Baekhyun from across the counter with a dispassionate gaze. The other male startled at the sight of him before the shocked look quickly transformed to one filled with guilt.

“Chanyeol-” Baekhyun began, his voice oddly thick. The brunette waited, but he seemed unable to continue, eyes flicking everywhere else but Chanyeol as he swallowed words he couldn’t say. It was really hard to stay angry in the face of so much regret. That didn’t mean Chanyeol wasn’t going to try.

“I just wanted to ask-” Chanyeol said just as Baekhyun blurted out, “I’m sorry!”

They stared at each other, and the brunette finished lamely, “-if you have a landline.” He sighed. “Look, Baekhyun, I don’t want to talk about it. I know you were doing what you thought was right, and maybe I was more offended that I should have been. But it’s happened; it’s done, so let’s just… not talk about it, all right?”

Baekhyun wrung his hands together. “Please, I just want to apologize. I didn’t mean what you think I meant,” he explained.

Chanyeol’s brows furrowed in confusion because, well, what other thing could Baekhyun have possibly meant? “I’m also really sorry because there’s no landline in the hotel or the town.”

“It’s fine. We’re good.” Chanyeol gave him a tired smile and watched, warmth coursing through him, as Baekhyun returned it with a shaky one of his own. Hearing that there was no landline was disappointing, but not exactly surprising. “I’m, ah, also leaving.”

Smile dropping, Baekhyun looked at him with something like grief etched on his face. “Chanyeol,” he said gently. “You can’t see it, can you?”

“…see what?”

Almond eyes avoided him, lips pulled down into a pained frown. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I wish I could help you, I really do, but sometimes-” Voice breaking, Baekhyun fiercely shook his head.

Looking at him, so close to breaking down, made Chanyeol want to gather him in his arms and just shield him from the world. He had no idea what Baekhyun was talking about, but it was clearly important to the other man. Important enough that he was near tears just talking about it.

“Hey,” Chanyeol murmured, voice just as soft, as he reached out to touch the petite male on the shoulder. “It’s gonna be okay.”

The other male gave him a tear-filled smile before he ducked his head. “Can you- would you stay for dinner? Please? You could leave first thing tomorrow, I promise.”

Chanyeol really should go back, but leaving the hotel right after Baekhyun had an episode seemed unnecessarily cruel. He could… he could stay for another day, just until Baekhyun was well again. With Baekhyun in front of him, eyes wide and hopeful, it was hard to remember why Chanyeol wanted to leave in the first place. “I… guess I could…”

“Great!’ Baekhyun thrilled, beaming at him, eyes once again turning to crescents.

Seeing Baekhyun so happy with his decision chased away the doubts Chanyeol had. “Will there be drinks? God, I miss getting drunk,” he said wistfully.

The last time he had gotten drunk was in college. When Chanyeol graduated, he made sure that he would never drink past his limit. His grandmother told him that no one would trust an accountant who was too wasted to count. It didn’t really make sense, but the rule was still so ingrained in Chanyeol that he never really broke it.

He was pulled out of his memories by the shuttered expression painting Baekhyun’s face. Chanyeol looked at him worriedly, suddenly alert. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“What?” Baekhyun asked, the displeasure turning to befuddlement.

“You were making a face,” he said in concern as he tried to copy the irritated and terrified face Baekhyun made. The other male’s answer was cut off by the bells ringing, signaling lunch. Baekhyun snorted at the way Chanyeol jumped in surprise. He gestured towards the bar where Sehun was serving a couple of people. The blond nodded at them as they approached, but otherwise said nothing.

Baekhyun looked at his customers in an effort to avoid Chanyeol’s piercing gaze. “So? What was the face?”

The hotelier shifted in discomfort and gave Chanyeol a considering look. “Have you ever thought that maybe people see things that aren’t really there instead of seeing things that are?”

“Um, no,” Chanyeol answered bluntly after pretending to think about it for a while. His efforts earned a small twitch from Baekhyun’s lips, and Chanyeol counted it as a win. “Have you ever thought that maybe it would be easier for everyone if people just said what they really mean instead of speaking in riddles?”

He meant it as a joke, he really did, but there was an undercurrent of bitterness lacing every word that had Chanyeol wincing. It was obvious that Baekhyun noticed if the tensing of his shoulders were anything to go by. “Sorry, I just-”

Baekhyun shook his head, eyes soft as he returned his gaze to Chanyeol. “I understand,” he reassured. “It must be tiring to be so confused all the time. But, Chanyeol, the answers are all there. You just have to _see._ ”

Chanyeol gave him a wry smile. Leave it to Baekhyun to give him a riddle right after he admitted that he was tired of them.

“So… the face?”

“You-” Baekhyun huffed. “You don’t know how to give up, do you?”

It was childish, but that had never stopped him before; Chanyeol stuck a tongue out. “You can distract me all you want, but I’m not letting this go, Baek,” he teased, the nickname easily slipping out of his mouth. The wide eyes and parted mouth was a testament to Baekhyun’s surprise, but Chanyeol wouldn’t take it back. He grinned at Baekhyun. “Staring at me all day isn’t going to work, you know. I’d still ask come nightfall.”

He pretended not to see Baekhyun’s hard swallow. “I… don’t really like people getting drunk,” he admitted quietly, forcing the words through gritted teeth. He was tense, hand clenching the bar table so hard Chanyeol was worried it might splinter. “Let’s just say I didn’t have the greatest experience with them.”

There was a story there, another riddle, but Chanyeol didn’t even mind. If all the answers to the riddles were more information on this strangely elusive man, Chanyeol would be more than happy solving riddles all his life.

‘ _Oh, hell no_ ,’ Chanyeol thought dazedly.

That was such a bad thought that he was not going to think about it further. He would just… put it at the back of his mind where he didn’t have to pay it any attention. He was leaving _tomorrow_. He couldn’t- _shouldn’t_ think about Baekhyun that way.

It would just end badly for both of them.

“I’m sorry,” Chanyeol apologized. He didn’t even know what he was apologizing for, but it was worth it to get that look off Baekhyun’s face. “I could understand, though.” He paused and continued hesitantly, “My own father was a drunkard. Guess that’s why my grandmother was so strict with me.”

“The one with the birthday party,” Baekhyun surmised.

Chanyeol smiled. He could feel Baekhyun’s almond eyes piercing through him, but he didn’t dare look back. “The one and only. She, ah, took care of me after my parents died.”

It was a heavy topic, but for the life of him, Chanyeol wanted Baekhyun to know. “Car crash,” he supplied helpfully after watching the raven-haired man struggling for words. “It wasn’t- I mean, I was young when it happened, so I don’t really feel sad about it, you know?”

And he didn’t. Not really. Baekhyun nodded, though Chanyeol could tell that he didn’t quite agree. “Don’t you miss them?”

“Not- not really,” he said, licking his lips. “I don’t even remember what they look like. I guess I miss the idea of them, you know? People who would be with you through thick and thin, but them?” He shook his head. “I didn’t know them well enough for me to miss them.”

He breathed out deeply through his nose and finally turned to Baekhyun. “I’m sorry,” he said miserably. “I didn’t mean to just… let it all out. I-”

“No! No, it’s fine,” Baekhyun said hastily, putting both palms up as to placate Chanyeol. He smiled at him through lowered lashes, pink dusting his cheeks. “I want to know.”

Well, there went that circuit again. Chanyeol blinked at him, mouth going dry. Baekhyun was possibly one of the most beautiful people he had ever seen, and with Chanyeol’s job, he had seen plenty. How had this guy eluded the world? Chanyeol understood that the town was pretty removed from the city life, but there must have been tourists. How come no one had secretly taken a picture of Baekhyun and put it up on social media for the whole world to see? But then, the idea of someone else getting here before Chanyeol-

He squashed down the irrational surge of possessiveness. “Well, what about you?” he rasped and cleared his throat in embarrassment. “What’s your story?”

“Guess,” Baekhyun smirked at him, eyes twinkling with mischief.

Chanyeol hummed under his breath and _oh my god were they actually flirting?_

“You’re a mysterious man in a strange removed town who chose to dedicate his life to serving his customers. If this was a novel, you’d be some sort of ex-convict who’s running away from his past,” he ignored Baekhyun’s smothered laughter and continued blithely, “and is… trying to give redemption a shot.” He grinned at Baekhyun. “Did I get it right?”

Baekhyun sobered at his gaze. “Yes,” he deadpanned. “You better run now, Chanyeol. We never know when I might fall off the wagon again.”

The brunette stared at him, watching as Baekhyun’s lips twitched little by little before he was full out chuckling. “Unfortunately, you’re wrong. I am- was,” he corrected, “a singer. Things… happened, and I ended up here.”

More riddles, but Chanyeol could roll with it.

“I… also wanted to be a singer,” he admitted, frown set on his face. “My grandmother… well, she didn’t exactly agree. She thought- _thinks_ that I wouldn’t really be successful; kept telling me that tall people, that _I_ just wasn’t born for dancing. She repeated it enough times that I eventually believed her.”

Chanyeol chuckled at the aghast look Baekhyun was sporting. The latter made a disgusted and offended sound at the back of his throat. Chanyeol shrugged. “She’s probably right. You saw how I danced. The industry would have swallowed me alive. Artists fail more often than they succeed; it’s just a fact of-“

“She chained you down,” Baekhyun said, tone awed and disbelieving. He ignored the dumbfounded sound Chanyeol made. “She _killed_ your dreams.”

“Baek,” the taller male said, tone pacifying as the soft lines on Baekhyun’s face grew harder with each passing second, “she was just-“

“ _She killed you,_ ” Baekhyun snapped harshly. “ _Don’t_ make excuses for her, Chanyeol. Just, don’t, okay? I _heard_ you when you were on your way here. You can sing and you can dance and she _destroyed_ all of it.”

Chanyeol stared at him. “Maybe you’re right,” he allowed, and inwardly delighted when it caught Baekhyun off guard. “Maybe she did kill my dream, but she only succeeded because _I let her_. If I-“

“Stop,” the petite man ordered, tone firm. “Don’t blame yourself in any way, Chanyeol. She was your grandmother, and she should have supported you.”

He had a point, but it was also just him and his grandmother against the world, and he couldn’t fault her for wanting a good and stable life for him when it was clear that was what they lacked. An artist’s life was far too unstable, far too risky, for the state they used to have; when his grandmother sometimes forgoed eating so that he and the others would have enough to eat.

“It’s okay.” Chanyeol smiled. His grandmother was harsh, sure, but she was all he had. All her life, she had just done what she thought was best for him, even if she did it the wrong way, and he was finally old mature enough that he couldn’t fault her for that. “It’s not her fault, Baek. And it wasn’t mine, either. Sometimes that’s just how life goes, you know? You want something with all your heart, but it doesn’t give you the opportunity to get it. Sometimes it’s just never the right time or the right place, and you just have to settle for watching it slowly pass.”

Watching the fight drain out of Baekhyun was nothing short of amazing. The fire blazing in his eyes burned down to an ember, the tense shoulders loosened into a slump, and the scowl set firmly on pink lips died into a faint frown. He looked down. “I understand.”

“And I’m glad you do,” Chanyeol told him, filled with so much honestly it made his voice raw. “Besides, it’s not like I completely stopped. I still play, sometimes, when I’m alone.”

“But never with an audience,” Baekhyun retorted, voice hollow.

“Just never with an audience,” Chanyeol, nodding, repeated with a sad smile. “But my grandmother’s important to me, Baek. That’s why I need to leave. She must be out of her mind, worrying about me.”

Chanyeol didn’t think his grandmother’s value to him was that surprising, but he didn’t know what else could warrant the way Baekhyun had inhaled sharply before his head whipped to face Chanyeol, eyes wide. He looked at Chanyeol as if he had previously been faced with a difficult riddle and Chanyeol had just provided the answer, as if it all suddenly made sense.

“ _So that’s why,_ ” he breathed, a glint in his eye that made Chanyeol uncomfortable. “That’s what’s holding you back.”

“What?”

Baekhyun flinched back, swallowing. Chanyeol watched the way his Adam's apple bobbed in his nervousness. “Nothing,” he said too fast and too easy for it to be anything but a lie. “One last dinner, okay, Chanyeol?”

He tried to smile at him, but Baekhyun wouldn’t meet his eyes. Chanyeol knew a clear dismissal if he saw one. “Yeah… I’ll, uh, see you later?” he asked and ignored the deep stabbing pains of insecurity clawing at him. Baekhyun gave him a brisk nod before walking back to the counter, and Chanyeol could only frown at his retreating back.

_What the ever loving fuck._

 

The loud ringing of the bells that signaled dinner cleared through the fog in Chanyeol’s mind. He had returned to his room shortly after the conversation with Baekhyun to catch a short nap. However, short must have turned to long if the bells were signaling dinner. Chanyeol plopped on the bed, groaning.

When his mind grew tired of trying to make sense of Baekhyun’s odd behavior, it had simply decided to shut down. Now, Chanyeol had a killer headache that was made worse by the bells.

“Shut up, shut up, I’m up already,” he hissed into the room. He went to the bathroom to change into decent clothes. At this point, Chanyeol was just reusing the white shirt and pants he had initially used. He had never planned to stay long at his grandmother’s place; three days at the hotel was just pushing it.

He went out his room; he didn’t bother blocking the door last night. The Kim brothers didn’t seem that bad, although they _were_ weird. The door next to his was wide open, but there was nobody in sight.

Chanyeol shrugged it off. It was dinner after all; they must have gone down already.

The dining room, similar to the rest of the hotel, was designed to imitate something from the Renaissance era. It was a narrow room, and most of the space was taken by taken by the long table situated at the center. The table had an intricate design. Its legs were carved to resemble ionic columns while the length and the width of the table were carved with intricate swirling patterns that met at the center to form a pentagram. Situated directly above it was a black candle chandelier. The table and the cushioned seats were dark browns in color. To match, red velvet drapes covered the large windows, and their colors fit the wooden floor. Cabinets filled with vintage wines, plates, and cups lined the walls. Two doorways sat parallel to each other on the opposite ends of the room. It was really beautiful, and Baekhyun outdid himself.

Chanyeol didn’t see Baekhyun at the counter, so he was expecting the other man inside. However, when he entered, Baekhyun was nowhere to be seen.

Chanyeol ignored the twinge in his heart, though he couldn’t help the pout that formed on his lips. See, he had thought that Baekhyun invited him so they could eat together one last time, but after their conversation earlier, it seemed like Baekhyun didn’t even care. Or was Chanyeol just being sensitive? Baekhyun was the owner of the place, after all. It was possible that he had initially invited Chanyeol to spend time with him but his duties permitted him otherwise. He successfully stifled a sigh of disappointment and surveyed the room.

Jongin, Minseok, and Jongdae were already seated at the far end of the long table. Their eyes flashed to him before they simultaneously bowed their heads and resumed eating, eyes blank as they stared at the table. The aura around them was gloomy, and despite their irksome attitudes, Chanyeol couldn’t help the small sliver of worry.

There were other people seated beside and around the trio; some of them, Chanyeol had seen before: like the burnt man and the old lady from the town. Sehun sat at the head of the table, a Chinese man with one eye missing sat next to him. He was followed by a bald, pale man with big eyes.

He took a seat near Minseok. The brothers weren’t _that_ bad, but he would still like a few people in between them. The table was already laden with food, all of which were Chanyeol’s favorites.

Did Baekhyun arrange this?

Unbidden warmth pooled in his stomach, and that was quickly followed by a pain so sharp it made his insides twist and his toes curl.

Chanyeol couldn’t stay.

He had a life outside of this hotel, but maybe… maybe he could come back? Arrange a leave at work and stay here for at least a week. And after that… after that maybe he could ask Baekhyun to go with him. And if Baekhyun doesn’t agree, well, Chanyeol had never been a fan of long distance relationships, but maybe, just maybe they could make it work.

With renewed vigor, Chanyeol dived into his food. He hadn’t felt this light in days. For a while, everyone ate in relative silence, and then the atmosphere changed.

Chanyeol wavered, mid-bite, as the temperature in the room dropped down to several degrees. Shivering slightly, Chanyeol dropped the spoon to wrap his arms around himself. The air he exhaled was visible in the cold, and his teeth were chattering as it became colder and- _holy shit, what’s going on_. He didn’t even think that was possible.

He looked up and saw at the corner of his eye, Jongin subtly stiffening. He turned to look at the trio, confused. None of them met his gaze; all too busy staring at the doorway with barely masked horror.

Moving was the last thing Chanyeol wanted to do, but he followed their gaze and then froze. What-

_Junmyeon._

The sound of a chair hitting the floor echoed around the room, and Chanyeol lifted his gaze off the other man for a while to look for the source, before he realized that he had caused it. Chanyeol didn’t even register moving, but somehow he had made his way between the three brothers and Junmyeon.

What the _fuck_ was he doing. Chanyeol released a deep breath and studiously ignored Jongin placing a hand on his shoulder as if holding him back and Minseok and Jongdae positioning themselves right beside him. Instead, he kept his attention focused on Junmyeon and the haunted look on his face.

The older man was wearing a white long-sleeved shirt and black slacks. He stepped forward and then stopped, and Chanyeol stiffened as Jongin’s grip tightened on his shoulder. He could recall the dreams, then, with almost perfect clarity. He didn’t know how much of his dreams were real – he was never the sort to believe in that stuff – but he could tell that Junmyeon was bad news.

He was one man, and there were four of them, Chanyeol- Chanyeol faltered. Something wet was seeping into his clothes. He glanced briefly at Jongin’s hand on his shoulder, looked away, and looked again.

What.

Chanyeol swallowed with difficulty as his breathing turned erratic, short puffs of air that left him more breathless than the last. Someone was calling his name, but it sounded like it was coming from the far end of a tunnel and it only grew smaller and smaller until the only sound Chanyeol could hear was his brain screaming a litany of curses.

Jongin’s hand was bleeding. Jongin’s hand was bleeding from a stab wound. In fact, Jongin’s entire body was covered in stab wounds and _what the fuck._

Chanyeol screamed as he stumbled away from the hold, knees buckling. He ended up sprawled on his ass. He clambered backward, eyes never leaving their form until he hit the edge of the table. He ignored the blood that was running down the front of his shirt and focused on Minseok and Jongdae – _and, oh God, they were covered in blood too_ – who reached out to him, but Chanyeol batted their hands away, pressing himself against the table. He felt faint and cold, shaking like a dog. The other guests had moved to the sidelines where Chanyeol could easily see them if he would only turn to look, but he didn’t want to lift his eyes away from the brothers. No- Chanyeol _couldn’t_ look away.

Chanyeol, someone called, the small sound coming farther into the tunnel. Chanyeol, calm down. Chanyeol-

He inhaled sharply, the breath of air lodging in his throat and making him gasp. He let out was sounded like a sob and turned to look at Sehun through eyes blurred by tears. This was his worst nightmare come to life. “Help me,” he croaked, rubbing his eyes. “Please.”

“Chanyeol, it’s okay,” Sehun assured, calm gaze pinning Chanyeol on the spot. “It’s normal; you can finally-”

“ _No_. No, fuck you, enough of that. I’ve- I’ve had enough.” He let out a harsh laugh and gestured to the brothers. His voice was raw, cracking at the edges, and completely terrified. “Normal? You call this _normal_? Just- just stay the hell away from me, Sehun.”

Minseok moved closer. “We’re not-”

“ _Stay away from me_.”

Sehun started speaking again, warning Minseok to keep his distance and Minseok retorted back, hands gesturing wildly, but Chanyeol couldn’t hear what they were saying. He had already tuned them out. He needed to- he needed to get out here. Chanyeol took a shaky breath, thoughts, and plans swirling in his head.

Junmyeon was still blocking the doorway. Chanyeol could- he could push through, maybe. He was bigger, much bigger than Junmyeon; it could work. No, who was he kidding, there was no way Chanyeol was going to touch any of them fuck no. The mere thought sent chills racing up his spine.

The other doorway, on the other hand, led to the courtyard. Chanyeol could use that and then enter the hotel lobby. Of course, they could intercept him on the way, but Chanyeol had long legs, and he was fast. He could outrun them. Going upstairs was a very big no. Escaping would be impossible that way unless he was willing to jump from the window and potentially break his ankle along the way, so courtyard and lobby it was. Furthermore, Chanyeol had no idea where Baekhyun was, but he should be at the counter.

There was no way Chanyeol was leaving Baekhyun in this hell hole of a hotel.

His hands felt clammy, his legs weak, but dammit Chanyeol was getting out of this. Heart thudding in his chest, Chanyeol once again surveyed the scene. The conversation between Minseok and Sehun had evolved into a shouting match, with Jongin and Jongdae as their brother’s backup. Chanyeol couldn’t care less about what they were talking about, he was just glad their attention wasn’t on him.

Chanyeol counted down and then made a break for it. He almost tripped, vision going black for a split second before he pushed through. He swallowed the bile that rose in his throat, distantly aware that he was hyperventilating again. He ignored their shouts after him as he reached the courtyard. A figure sitting on the well stopped him in his tracks.

“Baek! We-” He heaved a deep breath as he constantly looked over his shoulder. His hands were shaking, his _whole body_ was shaking, but Chanyeol knew he couldn’t break down just yet. He grabbed Baekhyun’s hand and pulled him along and almost growled in frustration when Baekhyun resisted.

“Chanyeol! Hey, hey, it’s okay. Calm down. What’s wro-”

“We have to go,” he grounded out after he had taken a shuddering breath. “Your guests, they-” he faltered as he finally took in the petite male’s appearance. Baekhyun’s normally pristine white dress shirt was also riddled with blood and… bullet holes.

He released Baekhyun’s hand and staggered back. “You too?” he asked shakily, _accusingly _.__

Baekhyun tilted his head to the right, clearly confused, before understanding settled in and sadness took place. He shook his head, eyes filled with sorrow boring into Chanyeol’s. “I’ll be here, Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol shook his head in betrayal, throat tight, as he turned to run away.

_No._

He was surrounded.

Jongin, Minseok, and Jongdae entered through the door he used while Sehun and the other guests – all bloody, all _dead_ – arrived through the other one. Chanyeol was about to step back when he remembered Baekhyun’s very dead presence behind him. They all stepped closer, hands reaching out, mouths moving, and Chanyeol _screamed_.

Chanyeol bolted upright on the bed, nerves alive with panic. His hair and clothes were sticking to his forehead due to the sweat. Chanyeol rubbed at his eyes with a shaking hand, willing his heart to calm down. The bells were ringing, signaling dinner, and Chanyeol wasn’t even sure if he wanted to go.

He knew it was just a dream, but it had seemed so real…

Chanyeol gritted his teeth together. There was no way it was real because he was still in his room, wasn’t he? Dinner hadn’t even started and there was still light outside. A person couldn’t go back in time, he rationalized. It took a few more moments but once Chanyeol had composed himself and changed his clothes, he left the room.

The door beside his room was still open.

Baekhyun was still missing from the counter.

His breath caught in his throat when he entered the dining room. Everything was just as he remembered, and it was honestly starting to freak him out. But no- right? It couldn’t be because it was just a dream, and Chanyeol was a grown-ass man who would not be running away because of a nightmare. He took a seat, the same seat, and began to eat. When nothing out of the ordinary happened, Chanyeol relaxed, his muscles and limbs loosening.

It was just a dream after all. He would be out of there first thing in the morning, and he would be back for Baekhyun.

The cold that permeated the room was slow coming, this time, and it registered too late. Chanyeol looked over the doorway, terror singing in his veins.

It was happening all over again.

Chanyeol woke up screaming. He threw the cover off him and scrambled off the bed, chest heaving all the while. Chanyeol breathed deeply and once he was calm, he hastily made a change of clothes. He grabbed his backpack from its place on the armchair. The dinner was the only constant between the two events, and Chanyeol would be damned if he fell for it again a second time. He was leaving. There was nothing for him there. He ignored his mind chanting Baekhyun’s name; Chanyeol knew when to leave well enough alone.

Baekhyun, of course, was missing from the counter. Chanyeol ignored the regret he felt as he walked out of the door, unable to say goodbye. He avoided the main street of the town, choosing instead to walk through alleys and streets with no people, to the town entrance. The light was still off, as the sun had not yet set, but it was just as broken as the first time Chanyeol saw it.

 _Why_ did he think that it was a good idea to enter in the first place?

Chanyeol walked on, never once looking back.

His car was just as he had left it, and he knew it was stupid, but Chanyeol slid into the driver seat, punched the key in, and turned on the ignition.

The car purred to life.

He blinked, surprised. Maybe he just needed to rest the engine? Damn, if he hadn’t panicked, he wouldn’t have gone into the town at all. But… he also wouldn’t have met Baekhyun.

 _Stop_ , Chanyeol told himself firmly as he drove. Baekhyun was clearly… gone and hoping would just destroy him. He would just have to… move on. The burnt man’s words echoed in his mind.

“ _They always do_.”

Well, what else could they do?

The sky had turned dark after 15 minutes of driving, and Chanyeol had no idea how far he still was from the main road. There was no way to check, seeing as his phone was still dead to the world. He stepped on the gas pedal harder and almost jerked his car in shock when a lamppost flickered overhead. Cold fear gripped his heart, foreboding settling on his stomach as he neared the town once more. He could turn around again, drive back, but Chanyeol somehow knew that it would be for naught.

He was trapped, for some reason, and he wouldn’t be able to escape until he defeated the bad guys. Chanyeol watched horror movies; he knew the drill. Fuck. _Fuck_. They were _dead_. Was it even _possible_ to beat dead people?

Chanyeol drove through the town, all the way to the hotel. Baekhyun’s voice drifted from the hill, and Chanyeol was struck with nostalgia. This was how they first met, after all; as a host welcoming his guest. It was impossible to drive his car up the steep hill, so Chanyeol put it on neutral and got off.

His hand had turned clammy in the face of possibly seeing Baekhyun again. On the other hand, Chanyeol wanted to be free, and maybe he could just talk to the hotelier about it. Baekhyun had seemed harmless enough during his dream – was it even a dream? – Non-threatening and passive as he stared at Chanyeol. Maybe Chanyeol could reason with him?

Baekhyun stopped singing when he reached the top and they stared at each other for two beats before the smaller man gave him a brisk nod and headed inside. Chanyeol was about to follow, but he hesitated. Something called him to check back on his car.

His breath hitched, and Chanyeol felt like he was watching his own life play from a television. His car was a total wreck, steam rising from the engine. Police officers surveyed the scene as nurses fussed over a body. The person was clearly male, tall, and- _no._

_No._

Chanyeol pressed his lips together, knees buckling, as the man’s face came into view. It was him it was him it was him it was him – _how could it be him_. He couldn’t- _He wasn’t dead_.

Blood trickled down his face from the gaping wound on his forehead. It was a bruise, Chanyeol remembered a bruise it had just been a bruise and _no no n o no no no no no no n-_

 

Chanyeol bolted upright on the bed.

Amidst his own screams, he could hear the dinner bells ring.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Author's note:** I’m sorry because I didn’t really understand the whole “no actual character death” thing. Also, I didn’t really turn Baek into a sadist(?) despite the prompt hinting at it. He’s more of a neutral party. I hope this meets your expectations and I’m really sorry if it doesn’t! Thanks for reading!!


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